


The Cruel Hands of Fate

by aceofsparrows



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Show!Verse, and worried about her uncle gilby, delly is three!, it had to be done, post-S3, typhoid fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23376109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceofsparrows/pseuds/aceofsparrows
Summary: The letter arrived after dinner. It was slipped through the mail slot, unmarked but for a name on the front written in a shaky, hurried hand.* * *Three years after the events of season 3, Anne is finishing spring term at Queen's when she receives a worrying letter-- and her whole world is thrown into uncertainty.aka my version of the typhoid fever incident from Anne of the Island
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley, Ruby Gillis/Moody Spurgeon MacPherson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 169





	1. part 1

The letter arrived after dinner. It was slipped through the mail slot, unmarked but for a name on the front written in a shaky, hurried hand. Lily brought it to the parlour, and Anne set aside her book to open it. 

“Who do you think it’s from?” Josie asked from across the room where she sat nearest the lamp with her embroidery hoop. 

“I don’t know…” Anne frowned. There was no seal, just a little puddle of wax, and no stamp. How very odd. 

Breaking the wax carefully so she didn’t rip the paper, Anne opened the letter. The chatter in the room fell to a hush, all of the girls’ eyes on Anne. 

Anne read the letter, her brows knitting closer and closer as she went. Diana, now curious, stood to read over her shoulder. When they reached the end they both sat still for a moment, neither quite believing what they had just read. 

“Well, what is it?” Ruby asked, breaking the horrible, thick silence. 

“I…he…” Anne struggled to form a coherent thought as the information swirled in her brain. “I-I have to go.” She stood abruptly, letter tossed to the side, and hastily left the room, taking the stairs two at a time to her and Diana’s room on the third floor. 

Diana, startled by Anne’s abrupt exit and still shocked from the contents of the letter, sat once more, taking up the letter and sighing deeply. 

She read it slowly for all the room to hear, and within the hushed silence the horrible news was revealed. 

“ _Dear Anne,_

_I am writing to you because I want you to know that something terrible has happened. Gilbert is very sick, and the doctor said he may not have long to live. He is home now in Avonlea, and does not want you to worry. He misses you very much, but says he will see you soon, no matter what comes._

_Please, if you can, come home and see him. Delly and I are very worried._

_\- Bash_ ” 

##  *** * ***

Matthew was waiting at the station when the train arrived. Anne had sent him a telegram as she departed, and he nodded silently to her in greeting as she hauled herself up into the wagon. 

For the first time, they did not speak as the rode through the woods towards the Blythe-LaCroix farm. Anne’s nerves were tightly wound and she fiddled with the cuff of her sleeve and a loose thread on her skirt, grasping at anything to keep her mind occupied. 

When the house came into view, she stopped breathing. 

Matthew helped her down from the wagon carefully and kept her hand clasped in his for a moment after she was safely on the ground. 

“If you need anything, anything at all, you send someone to tell us, you hear?” 

Anne nodded. 

“I love you, Anne. I hope, for your sake, this all turns out alright. I know you’re scared, and I want you to know you have a right to be scared. Don’t think you have to be strong just because.” 

Anne nodded again, her lower lip quivering. Standing here, so close to disaster, her bottled-up fears made her head and heart feel as though they were about to burst from her skull and chest. She bit her lip, giving Matthew a fierce hug. 

“Thank you, Matthew.”

Matthew held her, a few tears escaping his eyes as well. Then, though neither of them wanted to, he let her go, swinging himself back up into the wagon and giving Anne a wave before turning and heading in the direction of Green Gables. 

Anne looked at the stone house before her, so familiar and yet so alien in the warm late-spring light. A chill passed through her suddenly, and for a moment she felt the echo of a day so long ago, when she had brought Gilbert his books when his father had been ill. 

This had been a house of death three times before, and Anne would do all she could not to let it claim another life for its own. 

##  *** * ***

“He’s up in his room,” Bash said quietly. There were bags under his eyes, and he held a sleepy Delly in his arms, the toddler resting her head on her father’s shoulder and staring at Anne with her curious wide brown eyes. 

“Thank you,” Anne replied, gathering her skirts in one hand to carefully climb the stairs. She treaded lightly, barely making a sound despite the age of the steps. When she reached the top she saw the door at the end of the hall was ajar and she moved quietly towards it, heart in her throat.

The scene inside the bedroom brought Anne finally to tears. Gilbert, curled on his side in fetal position under his faded spring quilts, eyes half-lidded and staring into nothingness. The curtains drawn and the low light casting shadows across the walls with their little anatomical drawings tacked here and there. The empty rocking chair in the corner, skeletal and alone.

Tears carving their way down her cheeks, Anne went to the bedside, smoothing a delicate hand over Gilbert’s forehead, gently parting the wet, matted hair that was plastered there. He was warm, so warm that Anne startled herself when she first touched his cheek with her cold fingertips.

He didn’t move. He didn’t even blink. His chest moved up and down ever so slightly, just enough for Anne to know he was still alive.

Sniffing and wiping the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand, Anne kissed her love’s brow.

“I’m here now, Gil,” she whispered, sitting softly on the bed behind the curve of his spine. “I’m right here beside you, and I’m not leaving until you’re well again.”

Anne unbuttoned all the tiny little buttons on her boots with shaking fingers, pausing every so often to swipe tears from her cheeks and eyes. Finally, in just her stockinged feet, skirts, and blouse, she laid down behind him, curling herself inward to shape her body to his.

She settled her chin in the crook of his shoulder, closing her eyes and breathing in the lingering remains of his familiar scent of fresh lye and honeysuckle.

“I love you,” she breathed into his neck, holding him tightly to her with her arm around him. “I love you, Gilbert Blythe, and I’m never letting you go.”


	2. part 2

Anne woke with the weak, thin shaft of sunlight that spread across the bed through the half-closed curtain and the faint song of the birds outside the window. She stirred carefully, stiff from a night of sleeping in such an odd position. Gilbert was still breathing, thank goodness. At some point in his sleep he had taken her hand in his, and she ran her thumb along the back of his hand before disentangling herself from his still-sleeping figure. 

She didn’t bother putting her boots back on; her stockinged feet would make her steps in the hall and on the stairs quieter anyway.

Downstairs was alive with morning sunlight, and there was soft, young laughter from the kitchen as Anne made her way through the house. She found Bash, Delly, and Hazel in the bright and homely kitchen, sitting around the small table and eating their breakfast. 

“Anne, Good Morning!” Bash greeted her. Anne smiled despite herself. 

“Good Morning, Bash. And good morning to you, Hazel.” 

The older woman nodded to Anne, standing to offer her her seat. “I’ll get you some porridge, then, Anne-girl?” 

“Thank you, Hazel, that would be wonderful. And you needn’t give up your seat; I’ll sit with Delly on the bench, I don’t mind.” She sat heavily on the bench next to Delly, giving the small girl a thin smile. “Good Morning, Miss Delly. How are you today?” 

Delly grinned up at Anne, small crooked milk teeth making her smile charming and wide. “Goo’ morning Auntie Annie!” She frowned, suddenly becoming somber. “Did you see Uncy Gilby? He’s sick and can’t get up.” 

Anne nodded. “Yes, I saw Uncle Gilby. I told him I want to stay with all of you and him until he is better again.” She turned to Bash at this, eyes imploring. “I do wish you’d let me stay until he is well, Sebastian, please. I can write to Queen’s; my exams have all finished for the term and I’m not needed back in Charlottetown for another four weeks. And besides, my presence here is ever so much more important here than it is there no matter the circumstance.” 

“Of course you can stay, Anne. Gilbert needs you as much as he needs us, maybe even more, and I wouldn’t deny him any small happiness at such a time. You can stay as long as you like.” 

##  *** * ***

The days passed slowly, and Anne felt as though she were a fly stuck in molasses, an insect incased in amber. Mornings were spent in the kitchen helping Hazel bake or the garden helping Bash weed, and she sat by Gilbert’s bedside in the afternoon in the old rocking chair, telling him stories of her classes at Queen’s or reading from the battered copy of Jane Eyre she’d brought with her. Sometimes, Delly would join her in Gilbert’s room, sitting in her lap and following along as Anne read with her small pointer finger. Those were the good days, when things were sunny and quiet, when Bash or Anne could at least coax Gilbert from his heavy state of half-awake-half-asleep to drink a bit of broth or water before he fell back into a deep, exhausted sleep. 

The bad days felt like the end of the world. The sun hid behind dark heavy clouds or it rained, and Gilbert lay catatonic in bed, shallow breaths all Anne could or would watch for hours on end. It was those days that Bash kept Delly occupied elsewhere; the poor child had been touched by death once in her life and was too young to comprehend well what was truly happening in that little upstairs bedroom. A man was fighting for his life, and the jury was still out on who would win the battle. 

Everyone waited with bated breath. 

##  *** * ***

One morning, two weeks after Anne had arrived back in Avonlea, Anne was in the kitchen working on a shortbread recipe of Mary’s when there was a knock at the door. Dusting the flour from her hands on her apron, she went to open it, blinking in surprise at the person on the other side. 

“Um, hello Ruby. And… Moody?” 

Her classmates stood on the threshold, Ruby in her usual pink theme sans hat and gloves and Moody in simple brown work clothes. Anne had almost forgotten that all the rest of her classmates were home these next two weeks for the term break visiting their families. 

“Hello, Anne. We went to Green Gables first, but Marilla said you’d been here since you left Queen’s, so we came here.” Ruby was smiling wanly; news of Gilbert’s illness (though Anne did not know this) had traveled fast and the whole town was worried for the health of one of their most star progenies. 

“Why… why are you here?” Anne looked between the two of them, arm in arm, confused. She’d seen no one besides Bash and Hazel and Delly and Gilbert in so long that this shock of the outside world had rendered her momentarily confounded. 

“We wanted to see if you or Gilbert needed anything. All of us girls were so worried when you rushed away like that, and despite my… current romantic happiness,” Ruby patted Moody’s arm that was curled around hers then, giving him a small smile, “I loved Gilbert for most of my childhood, and would very much like to see him live another day and be able to continue to love you, Anne.” 

Anne blinked, shifting her weight between her feet. “Oh, well then. Would… would you like to come in?” 

##  *** * ***

“He’s probably sleeping,” Anne whispered, a hand on the banister. “He hasn’t spoken a word since I came; Bash says he’s barely spoken at all since he got worse.” She glanced up the stairs, a look of pain flashing over her thin face.

“Can we just peek in. We don’t have to even say hello or anything…” Ruby asked, delicate brow knitted in concern for her friend.

“Yes, yes of course. I just… I wanted to prepare you, I suppose.” Anne gave Ruby a stiff pat on the arm. “Follow me.”

They ascended and tread quitely down the hall to Gilbert’s room. The door was open all the way; Anne had been airing the house out while Bash and Delly and Hazel were away at the river for the day. The room was full of sunlight as well; the curtains were thrown open and they fluttered lightly in the warm spring breeze that blew in lazily through the slightly-open window.

Gilbert lay on his back, chest rising and falling shallowly, sleeping deeply. His brow glistened with sweat, and his cheeks were pale.

“Oh, _Gil_ ,” Ruby breathed as they stood on the threshold and her hand fluttered to her mouth, stifling a sob. Moody frowned, looking as though he was about to cry himself, and hugged Ruby to his side. They stared at their childhood friend, so helpless on Death’s door, and Anne watched them as if through a dream.

Anne Shirley-Cuthbert had lived in Avonlea for almost half her life. At newly nineteen, it felt as though she had lived in Avonlea forever; if she were to really think hard about it, she would suppose that her life had really _begun_ when she had come to Green Gables as an obstinate twelve-year-old with hair and temper equally fiery.

But it was in moments such as these that she realised she had missed so much. These people– her _friends_ – had all grown up together. Now, on the cusp of adulthood, they were all reaching the end of their time together as children, and to see everyone go out into the world was hard enough. To see one of their friends on the threshold of eternity, however, was quite another matter.

And what importance did Anne have in any of it?

“I think you should go,” she said quietly, after a while.

Ruby nodded, dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief. “Yes, I supposed so. I’m so sorry if we’ve overstayed our welcome, Anne. Really, thank you for… for….” she gestured vaguely around her, at a loss for words, but Anne understood.

“You’re welcome, Ruby, Moody. I hope we can see each other again soon under better circumstances. If anything, I’ll see you at Queen’s for summer term in two weeks.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” Ruby nodded, and when they reached the front door at the foot of the stairs Anne opened it politely for them.

“Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

As soon as the door was closed behind them Anne sank to the floor, her back pressed to the cool, solid wood. A sob rose in her throat and she buried her head in her hands, bringing her knees to her chest and shaking as she wept. It was the first time she had wept properly since she had arrived, and it was as though everything she had been trying not to let cross her mind the the last two weeks had come suddenly crumbling down upon her, smothering her last will to stay strong and optimistic.

Gilbert was dying– that was the plain and simple of it. There was nothing any of them could do at this point to try and change whatever happened in the end except help and hope, and it hurt Anne more than she could even begin to describe that that was all she could do.

Gilbert was dying. Her love, her _true love_ , was upstairs dying, and all she could do was sit there and weep.

Tragical romance and all indeed.

##  *** * ***

“… Anne?”

Anne opened her eyes. How long had she closed them? Minutes, hours, seconds? She didn’t know.

Was she dreaming?

“… Anne…?”

She had to be dreaming. Standing stiffly from her heap at the door, Anne blinked, looking up the stairs in confusion. Was Gilbert… was Gilbert calling her name? It had to be a dream…

“Anne, are you– are you there?”

Slowly, as if in a trance, Anne mounted the staircase, drifting down the hall to the bedroom. As she neared the bed she pinched herself, hard, closing her eyes for a moment, willing it to not be a dream.

When she opened them, Gilbert was looking at her.

“Anne.”

He said it with such relief and simplicity that it brought Anne to her knees. She sank to the floor beside him, her hand finding his as it snaked from underneath the quilt.

“Oh, _Gil_ ,” she breathed, clutching his warm hand tightly. “Oh, Gil, I’m ever so glad you’re here with me, Gil.”

“And I with you, Anne,” he said softly, hazel eyes clearer than they’d been in weeks. A corner of his mouth twitched up, trying in vain to smile. “I missed you.”

“Oh, I missed you too, Gil. I missed you too.”


	3. epilogue

“I want to get married.” 

Anne stopped, raising her eyebrows. “And here I thought this was going to be a _casual_ walk…” she muttered, shaking her head slightly. 

Gilbert took her hand in his. “I’m serious, Anne. I want to marry you, here in Avonlea, now. Well, not in this moment, but in the immediate future, preferably.” 

Anne bit her lip. “Gil…” 

“Anne…” 

“I just… really, so soon? We’ve only been courting for three years, and neither of us has a job yet… we wouldn’t be able to settle down for at least a year.” Anne looked at Gilbert, searching his gaze for some sort of explanation. 

“Anne, I am twenty already, and you are nearly twenty; we both are set to graduate from our respective institutions in the coming year and will most likely have some sort of work thereafter. I was in contact with a doctor in White Sands under whom I could study for a few years and earn an income before going to medical school, and you will surely be offered a teaching position somewhere, I know.” 

Anne looked at the apple trees around them, heavy with their blossoms. _Apple Blossom: I prefer you before all_. The sun was bright and made Gilbert’s eyes almost green; she was was sure her hair looked practically alight at the moment. 

She loved him so, she really did. And she had come so close to losing him… 

“How about after we graduate? It’s only in three terms’ time, less than a year, and then we can have a spring wedding, here in the orchard, with all manner of flowers and beautiful sunlight.” _Like Mary’s Easter,_ she thought but didn’t add.

Gilbert sighed, bringing Anne’s hand that was clasped in his own up to his lips to kiss it softly. “In a year, then. Until that time, however, would you like to wear this?” 

He dug a small black velvet bag from his trouser pocket, and Anne’s breath caught in her throat. From the bag he removed a small golden ring with a little emerald stone, and Anne remembered vaguely something Diana had told her in the confidence of their room at the boarding house almost three years ago, just after the fiasco with Winnifred. 

_His mother’s ring_.

“Yes, yes of course!” Anne breathed, and Gilbert grinned as he slipped the small ring onto Anne’s thin finger. “You know,” she added after a moment of them both staring at the ring in twin awe and giddiness. “This is a very important moment.” 

Gilbert nodded. “That it is.” 

“And not just because we are to be married, really married. This was the word you got wrong all those years ago, in the spelling contest when you let me win. ‘Engagement’. You forgot the ‘e’.” 

Gilbert smiled slyly. “You realise why, don’t you?” 

Anne gasped, then laughed in realisation. “You horrid flirt, Gilbert Blythe!”

Gilbert grinned. “My Anne-with-an-’e’… You know very well I’ve been smitten with you since that first day you broke that slate over my head. And I can very well spell ‘engagement’… I just chose not to.” 

“E-N-G-A-G–”

“– _ **E**_ -M-E-N-T, I know!” They laughed together, and Gilbert caught Anne by the waist to bring her into a sweet, searing kiss. 

“I love you, Anne. My Anne-with-an-’e’…” He whispered as their foreheads rested together. 

“I love you too, Gil. More than anything in the world.” 


End file.
